


we're the new face of failure

by fadingdreams



Series: makeshift manuals (Avidan AU) [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, larry stylinson - Freeform, larryyyy, lourry, parenting AU, tags lol, writer!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 04:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadingdreams/pseuds/fadingdreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>growing up sucks, especially when you think you're done with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're the new face of failure

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is appreciated always! :) X

Harry scrolled down his word document for the last time, the shadow of a smile etched on his face as he skimmed through the neat scrawl. He reached the end, the last chapter, the last word. He looked up at his husband of eighteen years, with the same soft hair and blue eyes. Louis sat patiently opposite Harry, scrolling aimlessly through his phone as his husband made the finishing touches to what he had been working on for the last eight years.

“Lou,” Harry stated, “I think I’m finished.”

The awe in Harry’s voice was clear. He was finished. Finished with something that had been so intertwined with his life for eight years, it was difficult to take in. Harry barely registered Louis wrapping his arms around him from behind.

“Well done babe.” Louis said loudly in Harry’s ear. “I’m so proud of you!”

Harry nodded in agreement, still kind of dazed. Louis pressed an excited kiss to his husband’s cheek and Harry chuckled. “I can’t believe it!”

“Are you crying baby?” Louis questioned in surprise at the sparkle in Harry’s eye.

“Happy tears.” Harry sniffled. “I wish Ave was home.”

“He’ll be back any moment now Hazza, don’t worry.” Louis grinned. “I think this occasion calls for celebration.”

Louis reached into the cabinet for a bottle of champagne that he had been saving for a while.  He poured it generously into two tall glasses and handed one to Harry.

“To another best seller, written by my gorgeous husband.” Louis toasted, clinking his glass against Harry’s. “You deserve every bit of this.”

Harry smiled widely and wondered what he had ever done to have been so lucky, just as he was about to take a sip his phone vibrated in his pocket, ringtone blaring.

“Must be Ave.” Louis sighed, “That boy has no concern for disrupting happy people.”

“Wonder who he gets that from.” Harry mumbled, “Hello? Ave?”

Louis watched as Harry’s face paled. “Are you sure?” The tall man asked, biting his lip. “Which hospital is it, we’ll be right there.”

Louis was already grabbing his keys.

“Shit.” Harry said, disconnecting. “Shit.”

 “What happened?” Louis asked, eyes shining with fear.

“That was Joe, he said something went wrong at the party, that Ave was ‘off’,” Harry took a deep breath and continued. “He was found outside the house, when they called nine-one-one the doctors said drug overdose.”

-

“Daddy,” Avidan whined, “Why do we have to take the _tube?_ ” he said it in disgust, as if the word was a bad smell. Harry just laughed at his dramatic son. Avidan reminded him so much of Louis sometimes.

“I’m not touching anything,” Avidan said reproachfully, as they stepped onto a train. “Dad says this place is full of _germs_.”

“I bet he did.” Harry said bemusedly leaning on one of the rails. “Ave if you don’t hold onto the pole you’re going to fall when the train moves.”

“No I won’t daddy.” Avidan scoffed, as if falling was most unheard of. “I don’t need a pole to balance you know.”

“Of course you don’t buddy.” Harry laughed, letting Avidan root his feet to the ground. But when the little boy wasn’t looking Harry snuck a hand and lightly grabbed onto his jumper.

Just in case.

-

Harry hated hospitals. They were too lifeless and too quiet. You could never tell what was happening in the rooms if you were sitting in the lobby, no matter how grave the situation.

Harry liked everything in plain sight; he believed that bravery was in truth.  Sitting in the lobby in front of a door that was hiding the lifeline of his boy, Harry felt lied to, and he didn’t feel very brave.

Louis held a cup of tea and a sandwich under his nose. “You have to eat something Harry.”

Harry wordlessly grabbed the tea and stared as Louis sat down next to him. The older man had always been the one who was calmer and more reserved about things. Sure Louis would play the fool half the time but when it came to waiting in the hospital, knowing nothing about the health status of his son, he didn’t show much fear.

“How could I eat at a time like this?” Harry mumbled.

“Bite, swallow, bite, swallow, repeat.” Louis said bleakly.

“That’s not funny.” Harry said through gritted teeth. When he turned to face Louis his eyes were blazing. “Nothing about this situation is fucking _funny_.”

“I never said it was?” Louis said hesitantly, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Oh I’ll tell you what’s wrong with me. The fact that I am sitting here, biting my nails and worrying about _our_ son in that emergency room, when you clearly don’t give two _shits_.”

Louis gawped, his mouth hanging open in a small ‘ _o_ ’ “How can you say –“, he stuttered. “Who the hell gave you the right to say that?

“I –“

“How can you say that I don’t give a shit? That is my son too, and I am as worried about him as you are, if not more. I can’t believe you would even think that. “, Louis snarled, but he was eager to twist the knife deeper into the wound. “And this is all your fault anyway isn’t it?”

“My fault?”                               

“Yeah, ‘oh I’m Harry Styles and I have this book to finish and I don’t really care when my son is shooting up in his room, HOW COULD YOU NOT HAVE FUCKING NOTICED?”

Both men were face to face, breathing heavily through tears. Harry fell limp under Louis’ stare first and slid to the floor against the wall. “You’re right. It is my fault.”

The sight of his husbands crumpled formed sent a blow to Louis’ already aching heart. “Harry I –“ ,he started just as the door to the ER burst open, two nurses and a doctor filing out quietly. Harry stood up immediately as the doctor walked over to him.

“Good evening,” He said professionally, but not unkindly, “The good news is, your son is completely safe. The drug has been pumped out of his system successfully and he’s back in health. The bad news is, he will most probably need rehabilitation, because his tests show that this wasn’t a one-time thing.”

“What?” Harry said, eyebrows furrowing. “Do you mean to say that he’s been doing this for… a while?”

“I would assume, for the last six months Mr. Styles.”

“That’s impossible.” Louis interrupted. “We would have known.”

As he said that he took Harry’s hand at that, he hadn’t meant for his mindless comment to hit so close to home, but the blame was theirs, not Harry’s alone, and Harry needed to know that.

“All I know is that my tests show positive, with all due respect, the rest isn’t my concern.” said the doctor, annoyance creeping into his tone. “You may see him now if you like.”

Louis and Harry walked round the doctor and straight into the room, where their son lay on a stark hospital bed, hooked up to various tubes and machines. Harry took his son’s hand silently, a tear dripping down his face. It was hard to see Avidan, a boy full off joy and life, pale and tired, broken and beaten laying like a rag doll with limp limbs. Louis bit his lips, the innocence of his youth shining out through tired eyes. He looked away and towards the window, unable to see his own flesh and blood in such a helpless state.

“Why would he do something like this?” Louis gritted out, clenching his fists hard, he could feel his nails cutting through the skin there.

“I’m not interested in playing a blame game here, so if you want to scream at me, I think it can wait.” Harry said hollowly, unable to take another dose of the previous scenario.

“I wasn’t going to blame you.” Louis said, but Harry seemed unconvinced.

“I should’ve –I could’ve,” Louis grunted, unable to find the words. It’s always difficult when you realize you’ve been living a lie, and that was the thought that was running in circles through Louis’ mind.

“What’s done is done.” Harry said tiredly, “All we can do is wait, and hope that he’s okay.”

“And then ground him for the rest of his life.”

“That too,” Harry chuckled, “That too.”

-

Avidan yawned loudly, eyes hooded and blankets pulled up to his dimpled chin. Louis poked his head into the room with a smile, “You all ready for bed mate?”

“Yeah.” Avidan said tiredly. “Dad, can you read me a story?”

Louis furrowed his brow mischievously, “Aren’t you getting a bit old for stories bud? You’re almost eleven.”

“I know dad, but, I’m just really tired.”

Louis was already walking in and sitting at the edge of Avidan’s bed. It had been ages since he’s asked for a story, and Louis wasn’t about to deny him. “What do you want to hear?”

“Could you read to me from one of Daddy’s stories? I feel like I’ve never read them because he’s my Dad. But I don’t want to ignore them; I want to know what goes on in his head.”

“Don’t we all.” Louis muttered amusedly at his son’s wisdom.  He plucked the first part of his husband’s debut trilogy that had smashed the charts within weeks. But for once he didn’t think of the glamor, or the publicity. He cared only that his son wanted to, and would learn to love Louis’ husband as much as he did. Louis fell in love with Harry through beautiful words and phrases. He was forever fascinated by the dynamics that spun like cogs in Harry’s mind. He was so eccentric, yet so gentle and loving. At times he was sarcastic and hurtful, but the generosity of his heart left all the people who met him in awe of him. In Louis’ mind, the writing was just a bonus, and something that Harry did to appease himself. Books or no books, fame or no fame, Louis would love Harry unconditionally. He had loved him before he had everything, and he would love him long after.

With this in mind Louis, the first words of the book began to roll off Louis’ tongue, with aching familiarity, with the memories of Harry’s deep voice reading Louis to sleep with the same words.

Of course, such was Harry’s way of words, that Avidan didn’t fall asleep till the early hours of the morning, and neither did Louis. Such they continued to be enraptured, by characters and a tale that had been created by somebody sleeping silently in the next room.

-

Avidan’s green eyes fluttered open, Louis caught the movement immediately, and after all they were the exact same brilliant color of Harry’s. Louis remembered the day Ave was born, the minute he opened his eyes Louis’ heart almost stopped, for it seemed that he had another pair of beautiful eyes to stare into. Avidan turned his head groggily and caught sight of his father, his chapped lips quirked into a smile, “Hey dad.” He croaked.

“Hey,” Louis smiled tiredly, unable to be upset at the sight of his fragile son. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell.” Avidan replied. “Some water would be nice.”

Louis got up and busied himself with the water jug in the corner.

“Where’s, where’s daddy?” Ave questioned in a small voice.

“He’s asleep,” Louis brought the cup and straw over to Ave. “He didn’t sleep since you got admitted so I made him rest. He’s just outside though.”

Avidan took a tentative sip, “How mad is he?” He asked nervously. “How mad are you?”

“I’m not mad Ave.” Louis sighed. “I’m just confused; I have a lot of questions. And I don’t expect them from you now, but when we get home, I need answers.”

“Dad’s not going to be satisfied with that.”

“No he isn’t” Louis mused. “I’ll try to keep him off your case, but there’s not much I can do when he sets his mind on something.”

Avidan blinked furiously, trying to keep back tears that were spilling over his cheeks. He wiped them away with a soft apology.

Louis grabbed his sons hand tightly, “Don’t cry Ave, it’s going to be okay.”

“No it’s not,” Avidan sobbed, unable to control himself. “Dad’s going to hate me, and you’re going to be disappointed and I could have _died_ , I should have said something before –“

“Listen to me Ave.” Louis said sternly. “Nothing you do will ever make me or your father hate you, nothing you ever do can diminish how proud I am of you as a person. You can make how many ever mistakes you need to make and know that Harry and I will always be right there behind you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Ave sniffed. “Okay.”

-

Harry awoke to Louis shaking him softly. “Wake up love.”

Groaning, Harry opened a tired eye, “Whassa?” Harry licked his dry lips and spoke again as Louis chuckled. “How long have I been out?”

“About four hours,” Louis replied. “Ave’s awake.”

Harry had never woken up faster. “Have you spoken to him? Is he –“

“He’s fine, but I haven’t spoken to him yet. Thought you should be there, you know -”

Harry looked at Louis critically. “You spoke to him.”

“I just thought that someone should play the good cop!”

“That boy doesn’t deserve a good cop,” Harry answered curtly, then softening his tone, he continued, “But I’m glad you did it anyway.”

-

“What the hell is wrong with you?”  Louis yelled at a defensive looking Harry. “How could you say that to him?”

“You heard what he said as well as I did!”                    

“So? Calling him a ‘fucking druggie’ isn’t the best morale boost.”

“So! Why are you taking this so well? This is not good. Knowing that your son has been taking drugs on a regular basis is not something you should be so calm about. Especially when this stupidity has landed him in a fucking hospital –“

“And whose fault is it for not noticing earlier? Ours! We’re supposed to be the wise ones Harry! Kids make mistakes; you and I should know that, hell we got into a lot worse at his age.”

Harry was silent, eyes still flaming with anger, shoulders hunched in a defensive stance. For once, his words had run dry.

“I promised him that we wouldn’t leave him, no matter what.” Louis said, voice cracking. “I promised _our_ son, that we would stand by him. We’re a team Harry, I can’t do this alone.”

Next thing Louis knew, Harry had launched himself into his arms. The younger man clung onto the partner of his heart with anything he could, Louis’ shirt anchoring his tears to reality. Louis shushed and cooed, stroking Harry’s curly hair with so much love in his eyes, so much care for the man that wore his heart upon his sleeve. So much care for the once boy, who was brimming with so much love, that it spilled out of his fingertips and covered everyone surrounding. So much care for the once boy who hadn’t changed at all.

“Don’t make me do this alone.” Louis whispered into Harry’s hair.

“I won’t.” I replied in a wobbly voice. “I won’t.”

As Harry’s tears stemmed, Louis guided them to the bed, laying Harry down gently before cuddling up next to him. Harry’s fingers instantly found themselves curled up into Louis’ soft shirt and his cold, salty lips pressed themselves against Louis’ palm as they fell into a slumber. Hours passed in their dreamlike state and none noticed the young sixteen year old boy creeping into their room at three am and standing at the door. His thin silhouette was dark against the dim light in the corridor. For minutes and more he stood, like a statue, unsure of his place. After an hour of thought he sat against the wardrobe, too fearful of the metaphorical ghosts under his bed.

-

When Harry awoke, there were dirty tear tracks on his face that was buried in Louis’ chest. He felt eighteen all over again, clinging onto to his boyfriend for security. His blurry vision circled the room until it landed on Avidan who was curled up against the wardrobe with his head drooping uncomfortably to the side.

His son’s eyelids were purple like the hollows under his eyelashes. His cheeks were sunken in and hollow, so unlike the way they were two years ago. His skin was pale and his thin and fingers shook, even in his sleep. Cracked and tired lips split open, as an eye peeked out from under his limp and curly hair. Avidan didn’t say anything just cast his eyes upon the ground, away from his father, away from Harry.

Harry got out of bed gently, careful not to wake his husband, and padded over to where his son sat. Harry sat cross legged in front of Avidan, and put a thin finger under his sons bent chin, tipping it up. It shook his heart to see the tired eyes welling up with tears. Whether with anger, or pain, or sadness, Harry couldn’t tell. He didn’t know how to read his son anymore.

Avidan turned his face away from his father sharply, tearing his gaze away. A teardrop fell from his eyelash and splashed the carpeted floor as a small sob escaped his lips.

“Ave, don’t cry,” Harry said guiltily, unsure of his footing in the situation. “I know that this is my fault.”

“But it isn’t.” Ave replied softly. “You didn’t help though.”

“Ave, I’m sorry. Sorry for not noticing anything earlier and sorry for yelling at you and blaming you when I should’ve been helping. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really winning any best father awards.”

“No you’re not.”

The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched in amusement as he saw how much like Louis Avidan really was. His sarcasm and biting tongue were as dry as his fathers.

“I may seem old to you Ave,” Harry said slowly and carefully. “But I’m still young, and I’m still making mistakes and learning about how things work, still learning about you, still learning about me. But even if you don’t forgive me, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart, and I know I may seem rash and really cruel but I will always stand by you, you can be sure of that.”

“That’s what dad said.” Avidan murmured, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.

“He’s always stealing my inspirational quotes.”

The young and blue eyed boy gave a watery chuckle leaned his head against the wardrobe in a tired way.  Harry pulled his son closer into an embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, murmuring apologies as the tears streamed down both their faces again and as Louis’ eyes cracked open from where he slept on the bed, he let a little grin pass his face. He interfered not, but he was part of the moment all the same, even if Harry didn’t know. And Louis found that he didn’t care. He didn’t care that things were getting fucked up; he didn’t care that things would get worse. He didn’t care that this wasn’t the first hurdle that they would come across. But he was grateful for what he had and for once he knew for sure, that he was definitely living for something bigger than himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
